


The End, and the Beginning

by rhoen



Series: Uchiha Week 2018 [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hugs, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 12:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/rhoen
Summary: The afterlife is nothing like Itachi expects.For Uchiha Week 2018 prompt #2: Afterlife / Immortality / Rebirth / Eternity





	The End, and the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2. Urks.
> 
> Thank you to my beta Kali for helping with things, including the title.

This isn't where he's supposed to be.

The growing white light all around is soft, welcoming him with a sunrise's gentle warmth, and he knows he's supposed to step forwards into it. Unseen hands press at his back, urging him on, their touch draining away all aches and pains he's ever known and leaving him with such a lightness his body no longer feels his own. His lungs are silent as he breathes, the stale touch of death no longer smothering his every breath and the acrid taste of blood absent from his tongue. His wounds are healed, the bruising sickness that suffused his body absent. The peculiarity of it leaves him a stranger in his own body. He cannot think a time when his body was so unburdened.

His attention turns outward, ahead. Something waits for him just beyond the reach of his slowly adapting vision, shapes forming and begging him to come closer, to move away from the border between life and death. He lingers on the fringe, knowing he cannot go back, but also not sure if he should press forward. His heart, unlike the rest of him, remains heavy. The weight makes it hard to move his feet, to shift from the spot he finds himself rooted to.

_ Itachi _ .

The whisper, the gentle caress of his own name in a voice never forgotten but so often hard to recall, undoes him. He all but falls forwards, into light and comfort, and finds strong, weapon-worn hands catching him, steadying him, and then a smile he’s not allowed himself to remember stills his heart. Pain tears through him, his core twisting and withering as he comes face-to-face with the man he feels he’s failed with every step he took after that fateful day.

There are tears in Shisui’s eyes as he pulls Itachi towards him. Too stunned to resist, Itachi finds arms around him, holding him close. He can feel Shisui’s heartbeat, the warmth of his body, and the way Shisui trembles, caught between tears and laughter.

_ Itachi _ , Shisui repeats, and Itachi finds his hands coming up to fist in Shisui’s shirt, holding on as if the strength of his grasp can steady him and save him from all that he’s feeling. So much that he’s forgotten comes flooding back, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. There’s nothing he can say, no way to express his regret, his remorse, nor how deeply he’s missed Shisui.

_ I’m sorry _ , he whispers. Shisui’s body lends him comfort he knows he doesn’t deserve, but he can’t work out how to extricate himself from the hold.  _ I failed you. I failed everyone _ .

_ No _ , Shisui argues, shaking his head and pulling Itachi impossibly closer to him. He’s taller than Itachi remembers, his body filled out to a level of maturity Shisui never lived to see, and he fits perfectly in Itachi’s arms. Or perhaps Itachi fits perfectly in his. He tucks his head against Itachi’s neck, murmuring against his skin as he continues.  _ You didn’t fail me. You did what you had to do. I’m so sorry, Itachi. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. _

The lump in Itachi’s throat refuses to shift as he swallows, and he relaxes his grasp on Shisui’s clothes only to clutch at them again. He can’t let go.

_ The things I’ve done _ … he starts.

_ I know. I saw _ .

Itachi feels himself go weak, the heaviness in his heart causing him to crumple. Shisui holds him, keeps him close, keeps him standing. The thought of Shisui watching all those years, seeing all those horrific things he did, is unbearable.

_ Shh, it’s okay _ , Shisui lies. Itachi tries to push him away, only to realise he can’t work out how to do so. He only holds on tighter, finding his chest is heaving with panicked breaths. He coughs, because that’s what his body remembers it needs to do, and finds the action useless. Everything is closing in around him, and only the Shisui’s embrace holds it at bay.

_ I’m right here _ , Shisui promises, his nose brushing against Itachi’s ear as his hand moves up, fingers tangling in Itachi’s hair. Itachi hides his face against Shisui’s neck, blocking out everything but Shisui as he focuses on Shisui’s voice.  _ It’s okay now. You did what you had to. It’s over now. It’s all over. _

It’s over. This is it; the culmination of his existence is him clinging to a long-dead friend, relieved and afraid and lost and alone, found and floundering. The greatest success of his life is his death, and Itachi feels that says more about him than words ever could. Every step he’s taken for the last eight years has been to reach this point, but now that he’s here he can’t go on.

His lungs tremble with the effort of drawing air, resulting in a sob, and in the messy exhale that follows he finds his lips forming the only thing he can think of.  _ Shisui _ .

_ Shh, I’m right here, _ Shisui repeats,  _ it’s okay _ .

Feeling him, the steadiness of his body, the rhythm of his heartbeat crashing against Itachi’s, and the whisper of his breath, Itachi wonders if Shisui’s words could really be the truth. He’d always expected to face whatever judgement came after death alone. He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine Shisui would be by his side, even if he’d hoped for it.

_ You’re not alone anymore _ .

Itachi can’t take it. In death, as in life, Shisui is his only refuge, and the realisation breaks him. For a moment he considers fighting it, and then he sees no point. He surrenders, and, for the first time in his existence, allows himself to cry freely in another’s presence.

It’s as ugly and as broken as he feels, his labouring lungs choking out broken sobs as his tears soak through Shisui’s top. The arms around him never loosen, Shisui’s hand never ceases in its gentle embrace of his head, and the steady breaths tickling his skin never fail to come. Through his own misery Itachi loses sight of Shisui, for a time finding himself unable to feel anything but the warm weight holding him together, until, at last, he’s spent, the wretched emotions vented until there’s nothing left within him for them to steal strength from. Shisui is still there. He’s constant, unwavering, and the little details of him draw Itachi’s weary focus. Itachi can feel him: his warmth, his strength, his heartbeat, every breath he takes. The fingers in his hair move with gentleness, and the lips pressed against the shell of his ear as Shisui turns towards him are soft. He can hear him, the warm vibration that starts in Shisui’s chest reaching Itachi’s ears as a soothing, wordless murmur, and he can smell the faint memory of sunlight on his skin.

When Itachi allows the careful fingers stroking his hair to draw him from his hiding place against Shisui’s tear-stained skin, he dares to open his eyes and see Shisui too. A kind, handsome face – a little older than he remembers, but still the same incredible young man he’s always known and held dear – greets him, a heartfelt smile pulling at Shisui’s lips and creasing the corners of his eyes.

_ Hey _ , he says, and Itachi looks abruptly away.

_ How can you stand to look at me? _ he bites out, knowing the ugly mess the tidemark of emotion has left on him.

He’s startled by Shisui’s hand coming to rest beneath his chin, fingers gently coaxing him to look back up. The touch is strange, new and intimate in a way Itachi is altogether unprepared for. It’s the surprise of it that makes him comply more than anything else.

Shisui’s smile is a little faded, his gaze solemn with sincerity.  _ You’re still the same person I’ve always respected and admired; the same Itachi I’ve always... _

Those fingers shift to his cheek, brushing away a lingering tear that’s startled from Itachi by the sadness he catches in Shisui’s voice.

_ The same person… _

There’s something in the way Shisui looks at him, something in the gentleness of his touch and the melancholy whisper of his tone that steals Itachi’s breath. His heart skips a beat, his mind not daring to hope what words might follow. He wants Shisui to say them, whatever they are, because he swears he can feel in the racing of Shisui’s pulse an echo of the longing that surges up from deep within him, from somewhere hidden, locked away. The secret doesn’t name itself, but it wants to.

Itachi trembles in Shisui’s arms as he speaks again, finding his voice a faded, rasping whisper.  _ So much of me has died since that day, I’m not… _

Shisui’s thumb strokes his cheek as he shakes his head, denying Itachi’s words.  _ You’re still Konoha’s Uchiha Itachi. _ He gives a sad, lonely smile. _ My Itachi _ .

Itachi stills, his eyes going wide as his heart trips over itself and slams against his chest. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, can’t hope… He can’t even let go, his fingers still lost in the fabric of Shisui’s top, needing Shisui to stay near.

_ I’m proud of you, ‘tachi _ , Shisui says, letting Itachi see the sincerity in his eyes as his fingers slowly slide into Itachi’s hair, caressing it with careful reverence. Despite feeling stunned, rooted to the spot, Itachi knows he isn't. It’s not that he can’t move away, it’s that he doesn’t want to.

_ So proud _ .

They’re so close already, so connected they’re almost intertwined, and Itachi can’t tell his own heartbeat from Shisui’s, one breath from another. It’s Shisui who moves, though, closing the distance to press soft, gentle lips against Itachi’s own. The touch is bliss, unlike anything Itachi has ever experienced, and it takes the pain away a second time.

He can’t help returning it, shifting subtly as he relaxes against Shisui, surrendering to what’s happening. He at last lets go of Shisui’s top, his hand sliding up over his back and fingers pushing into soft, thick curls, holding Shisui to him. He’s never dared to think about anything like this before, but he’s dreamed of it: of peace and happiness, of Shisui by his side, the two of them growing old together. He wonders if they can grow old now.

It becomes harder to think as the moments slip by, the feeling of Shisui’s lips on his own becoming as vital to Itachi’s existence as breath within his lungs. He loses himself to the quiet, all-consuming joy of holding and being held, and shifts to gently brush away Shisui’s tears when he realises that he’s crying.

When they first pull apart they don’t get far. Barely a millimetre appears between them before they close the distance again, reaffirming the kiss. The intimacy of it is dizzying, and Itachi pushes a little harder, just to make sure it’s real.

It is. His mind still trying to catch up with what’s happening, and he pulls away to gaze at Shisui. A lifetime ago Shisui had promised Itachi that he’d never betray him, and those words, and so much more, still hold true.

_ How long? _ Itachi asks.

Shisui smiles, tracing the curve of Itachi’s jaw with the back of his fingers.  _ I think, in a way, I’ve always loved you _ .

_ Despite what I’ve done? _

_ Perhaps even more so because of it _ , Shisui says.  _ You’re the strongest person I know; the kindest, the most loyal. _ He leans in and carefully brings their foreheads together, his eyes falling shut as he seems to lose himself in the peacefulness of the moment.  _ I missed you every day, more than I could bear. To see you again… I’ll always be your friend, Itachi. _

Itachi changes the angle, correcting it so he can kiss Shisui before asking his question.  _ Only friends? _

Shisui smiles at that, stroking Itachi’s hair.  _ Did you miss me too? _

_ I couldn’t think about it _ , Itachi admits.  _ Losing you broke my heart. _

_ Well _ , Shisui says, swallowing around the word,  _ you never have to lose me again. _

Itachi is more relieved than he can say by the promise, and buries his face against Shisui’s neck, losing himself in the warmth and comfort of his body. He feels the urge to kiss Shisui there, and is rewarded by a low, pleased murmur and Shisui’s arms tightening around him.

_ What happens now? _ he asks the comfortable hollow he’s found.

Shisui, playing with his hair again, is unhurried in the answer he gives.  _ Whatever you want. Your parents are waiting for you, if you choose to go on. _

_ I… _ the thought of seeing his parents again brings a lump back to Itachi’s throat.  _ I want to stay here _ , he decides.  _ I want to wait for Sasuke, to watch over him _ .

He can feel Shisui’s smile.  _ Okay _ .

_ Will you wait with me? _

Shisui shifts, pulling back so that he can catch Itachi’s gaze. He’s still smiling, the expression unforced, unburdened, and Itachi knows there’s are no words in any world that can describe what he feels for Shisui.

_ Of course, _ Shisui promises, before sealing the vow with a kiss.


End file.
